Date: Mon, 1 Jun 2009 03:09:57 -0700 (PDT)
From: Matt Doesburg
Subject: Toni The Book Chapter 9
"Matt when I came to New York it was as if I had burned down everything
behind me. I wanted to sell the shop to be with you. When everything was
done though, I started to feel as if I had lost a baby. Coming to New York
did not improve the situation at all. You had been there for four months
and it seemed to me as four years. In my eyes you had changed. You had
reached almost all of your goals. You also loved every single aspect of
it, finding new groups and taking the risks of releasing them. The waiting
for the first feed backs from the market and the joy when it worked as
planned.
I Amsterdam I felt as part of a team, in New York I felt excluded. We did
not make love as much as we had done in Amsterdam. I really tried to fight
it, but I started sliding into depressive moods. I blamed it on affairs
that you undoubtedly must have had during your time alone in New York. One
I can even give a name: Nicolette and don't look so innocent. It was
clearly visible every time you both were in the same room.
I know now that transgender people are very sensitive for such conditions.
But also today I do not know how to prevent it. Anyway, when you were away
on your business trips, I did not join our regular crowd to go out in the
city. I befriended some of the gay and transsexual people we knew. I
started to join them when they visited their hide outs and underground
scene clubs. I found myself strangely at ease in such surroundings. That
was when my idea started to grow that I wanted to get away from you.
Although I did in no way want to leave you, I decided that I needed time
for myself. At first I was thinking to go to San Francisco, but then I
heard about the scene in New Orleans and decided to take a look.
When you were away at the yearly convention of your company that was in
London, I saw my chance. You were surprised that I did not want to join
you, but I had other plans. I flew to New Orleans and fell in love with
city from the very beginning. I found out about the possibilities to study
the social environment of music. I could even combine that with medical
colleges dealing with the implications of transgender people.
I don't know why I did it. A possible explanation is that I wanted to
discover myself on my own, oh I don't know. I wanted to live on my own; I
wanted to be able to go to the scene bars alone. I wanted the freedom to
start affairs with women, with men and with other transsexuals. I had
started to feel constricted by you. In your race for success you
overwhelmed me. This was worse for me, as I had no goals anymore after
selling the shop. Going to New Orleans meant to go alone and that was one
of the main reasons for my decision.
When I came to the Big Easy everything looked great. Although my fellow
students were all younger than me, they accepted me readily. I did not want
to be the rich lady coming down to the poor student's life. That's why I
generally ate in the cheap eating houses and system restaurants with
them. We discussed about music and I could impress them with my knowledge
that I had gathered during the review evenings. When I started my study of
gender medicine, it was like opening a door to another world. I learned
more about trans-sexuality; its history, its mental implications and
medical backgrounds. I found the nice place that you know. The place was
soon known in the students' community as a haven and kind of safe house
when you had problems.
One of the places I frequented was the Hard Rock Café opposite the Jackson
Brewery Building. That is where I met Margeaux, Marge of Cajun heritage.
That evening at the cafe we both were with a group of friends. She saw me
listen intently to some Cajun music and asked me whether I liked that kind
of music. That evening we talked about musical tastes. We also found out
that we were of the same age. At the end of the evening, she asked me
whether she could invite me to dinner. When I said yes we made an
appointment during the coming weekend, in one of the Vieux Carré
restaurants.
On Saturday I went into town and was delighted to see that the restaurant
was called the "Inner Court" and specialized in Cajun cuisine. As something
special, the menu stated that the kitchen leaned heavily on Italian
influences. You know the place by the way, as we ate there several times
together. You especially liked their Jambalaya Italiana.
She welcomed me when I came in and soon I found out that she was the owner.
She had inherited the restaurant from her parents. That night we talked
about music and about our earlier lives. She loved my stories about
Holland. At that time, I did not tell her about you or my being a
transsexual. I got an invitation for the next weekend to visit her parents
who lived in Cajun County near Lafayette. You know the area from our visits
together.
If I thought that New Orleans was on another planet, Cajun Country must
have been in another galaxy. In a flat marsh-like country there were little
towns with road signs in French. The town of Lafayette was a jewel and
bustling with Cajun and Zydeco music. Marge's parents lived outside of town
in an old plantation house. With much love, they had transformed the house
into a beautifully furnished hotel. During the weekend I was there, they
only had a few guests. Most rooms were occupied by family partners and
their guests. Arriving early Friday evening we were welcomed by her parents
and two brothers. One of the brothers had a friend as guest and the other
one had his wife with him.
The dinner that night was spent in a large nearby restaurant, featuring
live music and dancing into the late evening. Of course I had to learn the
Cajun dances like the Two Step, the Waltz and the Jig. I did my best to
learn them as quickly as I could. My partners and tutors were Marge's
younger brother and his friend. It was clear that both of them started some
heavy flirting. Also during the next day and evening they continued their
contest for me. I was flattered of course, but as I was not looking for an
affair I did not let it go too far.
That night in my room Marge came to me and lied beside me. She came right
to point asking me why I had not reacted to the flirtations of the boys. I
was excusing myself not wanting to start something with them at my first
nigh. Also on the second day I thought it inappropriate to start something.
She interrupted me with a wicked smile. Would I change my mind when she
started to flirt with me? Her proposal sent butterflies to my belly Matt. I
was in no way interested to start something with another man, but the
prospect of making love to a woman was exiting me tremendously. When she
saw my silent confirmation she kissed me on my mouth. Saying that we would
talk about it the following day she left for her own room. I slept,
dreaming of tender hands and lips exploring my body.
The next day was like heaven. I saw her now with other eyes. I noticed that
she did not wear underwear and I was turned on. During the day we touched
each other whenever a possibility occurred. When we were watching a street
parade she stood behind me. When she pressed her abdomen to my butts, I
marvelled at feeling her pubic bone against me. On the drive back to New
Orleans, I had to resist the urge to start touching her in all the
beautiful places right away.
In New Orleans we went directly to her apartment over the restaurant. Her
bedroom also did not have an airco, but a long balcony with doors opening
to it. A lazy ventilator was slowly making its turns near the ceiling.
Standing in the middle of the room we embraced each other and kissed. At
that moment however, I lead her by the hand to the chairs on the balcony.
Sitting next to each other, with a bustling street under us, I spilled out
all my secrets to her. I told her first about you and that I more or less
wanted to get away from you. I told her about my leaving home and working
in Delft and I told her that I was a transsexual.
She was speechless for some time then stood up. Leaning against the
balcony railing she looked at me, as if she was seeing me for the first
time. Shaking her head she stated that she could not believe it. But that
made her wanting me even more. She drew me to her, embraced and kissed
me. Then she took my hand and led me to the bed room, where she started to
undress me. Before she lowered my panties he mustered me again and told me
again that I was unbelievable. After I was naked she held me at arm's
length and looked at me. The whole experience was so sensual that my dick
stood erected. Again she said that she could not believe that such a
feminine woman had a dick. After that she laid me on the big bed on my
back, spread my arms and legs and began the act of lesbian love.
She covered me with kisses; my face, my neck and my breasts. My nipples
were massaged and she nibbled on them with her teeth. She tongue fucked my
navel and I started to feel as drifting above the bed. I felt my nipples
get hard and I felt my cock get even harder than he already was. I felt
precum dripping and wetting my inner legs. The kissing lips went further
down, kissing my pubes without touching my dick and going down along my
right leg. She nibbled on my toes for a while, sending tingling feeling
through my body. After that her tongue and lips started the ascent along my
left leg until they reached their destination at last. My dick was so stiff
that I thought he might explode. When she started to kiss him it took only
minutes before I ejaculated so strongly, that it was indeed like an
explosion.
When I landed on the bed again I was exhausted, elated and crying for
happiness. I was engulfed in a feeling that was completely new to me. I
looked at the source of all this pleasure and smiled weakly at her. Rest my
darling, she said but I have to tell you that the night is not over
yet. Receiving is one joy but giving the other. Looking forward to the
giving side of our love-making I instantly got turned on again. I felt my
dick gathering up momentum almost immediately.
The giving was as indeed as beautiful as the receiving part. I tasted her
lips and criss-crossed my tongue over her breasts. I licked up some of her
sweat in the cleavage between her breasts. I nibbled on her nipples until
they were hard as diamonds. Her navel felt as a little cunt and I
duplicated the little fuck scene that she had me showed me before. Down it
went along one leg and up the other, to her centre of lust and love.
Circling my tongue along her lower lips I had a first taste of her juices
and wanted more. I knew that I had to do more to get it. I got hold of her
clit and caressed and licked and pulled and nibbled so long until I felt
her body stiffen. Hearing her love cry, I got my reward. Fluids were oozing
from her and I feasted on them. It was as if the love between us could be
drunk and we got drunk on the fluids. We slept in each others arms until a
bright and warm next day in the Big Easy.
Before we went top sleep however, Marge told me the parts of her story that
I did not know yet. She told me about her love for Jenny, a woman some 10
years younger from the North that had been her lover until three months
before. They parted when Jenny had found a girl younger then she. After a
big scene and many tears on Marge's side, Jenny went with her new friend to
New York. She also told me that she could never ever have imagined being
with a man. For that treason she was reluctant to let me fuck her. She
said that she saw me purely as a woman, a beautiful woman. A woman she
loved. The little something between my legs was only a minor blemish in a
perfect body.
During the succeeding time I was living in a dream. Everything was
beautiful, everything was rosy. I liked my studies during the day and in
the evening I helped with the drinks in the restaurant. Some of Marge's
girlfriends openly tried to seduce me away from her. I went to many of the
music venues that New Orleans offered. I learned to know the Cajun kitchen
and the Creole kitchen at their roots. I even gave some new Ideas how to
mix them with the Italian cuisine. Marge teased me with the assertion that
she had put a Voodoo spell on me and gave me love potion every day. I was
indeed feeling as under a spell.
If she meant her love juices by the potion, also that part of the assertion
was true. We made love as much as we could. We behaved as teenagers in love
as soon as we were together. She tore at my dress to give the passers by a
glimpse of my panties. I returned the favour trying to do it better and
show flashes of her panty-less bottom and pubes. We hired a boat to be able
to make love outside in the bayous. We got into the same toilet for a quick
stroking session. When we climbed chairs, we grasped between the legs of
the one leading, even when other people were present. .
Eventually she also wanted to be fucked by me. The sex with her was a
revelation. I never had fucked a woman before. When I had my first orgasm
this way, my first thought was that God must have had this in mind, when he
created man and woman. Making love in this way is much more a conflation of
two bodies. I can understand that the copulation, what an impropriate word
by the way, is called the love act.
I was convinced that this situation would last forever. I even proposed to
her Matt. If she would have accepted, I would have annulated my official
womanhood. She did not accept. Her simple explanation was that in that way
she would officially be with a man. Still together with a small group of
girl friends we celebrated our "official" engagement. New Orleans was never
as beautiful as the in the months that followed. Even autumn with its
duller weather was a time of joy.
I can understand now that you are unfaithful to me from time to time. I
loved to go down on Marge. Oh, I still get a hard on, when I think of
licking her pussy lips real long. I reveled in her reaction, when I moved
up and started to suck her clit. Every time she almost lifted from the
bed.
I hope you'll forgive me, but making love with her at that time was more
satisfying than the sex we had. Probably it was just because it was new to
me. The experience was so very intense that I remembered our love plays
more and more just as dull. These feelings confused me more and more.
I talked to Marge about it and asked her whether I was not a woman in a
man's body after all. She told me however that I should stop thinking such
nonsense. She loved Toni, a gorgeous woman. She promised me that she would
kick me out, when I dared to become more male. She was a lesbian and maybe
I should start to think about surgery. I cried that evening because I felt
she was rude by saying that. Still after I dried my tears, I understood
that she was right. I only had asked it because I searched for a way to
bind her to me. The best way to do that however would be to become a
complete woman Realizing that, I started to think about surgery seriously
for the first time.
During our discussion in the Gumbo Shoppe I was in the middle of these
confusing feelings. That may have made me indeed more self centered. I
think you were right that evening, when you said that I was not the happy
go lucky girl any more that I was in Amsterdam. When I told you however
that I wanted to be alone and saw how hurt you were, I was close to change
my mind, give up New Orleans completely and accompany you to Los Angeles.
But I could not walk out on Marge in that way. The only alternative was to
walk out on you and that is what I did.
After that evening I was ready to continue my life together with Marge and
see what came out of it. But fate had had different plans in store. Jenny,
her old partner came back about half a year later. She was in tears after
she was left by her younger lover. I witnessed the first meeting, as that
took place in the restaurant. When I saw them together, I knew that our
affair was doomed. In the beginning Marge told me that that was not true.
She did not want to have Jenny back, after she had been hurt so much by
her, but the reunion was inevitable.
Matt the time with Marge was very special for me. You have always treated
me as a woman. I know you that even though about me that way, when we were
separated. Marge made me a better woman. With her I learned to know what it
really means to be a woman. Not a concubine for a man, but a free
independent woman. Together we could take on the world. This feeling was
especially strong, when I was together with her in the company of other
people, men as well as women. I felt a level of sensual femininity that I
never had known before. In her own way she also made me a more complete
woman. Until today I am grateful to her for that, although our separation
did hurt like hell.
After I lost her I did not know what to do with myself. My first impulse
was run to you. My false pride won however. I did not want to give the
impression to be creeping back so you. Not so soon after I walked out.
Initially I tried to replace Marge by visiting gay clubs and flirting with
the girls there. I had to find out however that Marge was an exception by
accepting a transsexual. Most of the lesbian women, who were impressed with
my looks, draw back when they found out what I was.
So I started to search out she-males in the gay clubs. Especially young
ones, who were only beginning to realize what they were. But I actually
made love only with a few of them. I was normally more interested in their
stories. Although today, in New Orleans, things are a lot easier than 10
years ago in Delft, I saw a lot of myself in them.
Still after Marge I started to grab every possibility to have sex. Matt I
had an insatiable hunger for sex in all its forms. When we were together
sex was not our first priority, as it was sufficient to be together. I
wanted the pressure of a star hole on my dick. I wanted to feel a dick in
my back. As that was only possible with more than one person, I started to
participate in gang bangs. New Orleans would not be New Orleans, when there
would not be special clubs for that and I frequented them.
My next affair was with Bill a very handsome, gay man. It was a rather
short but very intensive affair. I met him in one of the clubs. He was a
slave there, hanging bound in a room, with arms and legs spread. Everybody
could use him as they wanted. I used him several times and he asked me
whether he could meet me also outside of the club. During our first meeting
he asked me whether I wanted to become his master. Out of curiosity I
agreed.
Being a master meant that I had to dominate him and punish him for wrong
doings that were always there. The first punishing session took place in
the "dungeon" of a friend. I bought a leather outfit with extreme high
heels for the occasion. He asked to be fixed on a rack that was against one
of the walls. He asked me to choose one of the long rods that were on a
table and to administer10 strokes to him. At the first one he told me not
to be a Sissy. It took five strokes to arrive at the force he wanted. That
was the first stroke made with all the power that I could lay into it and
the first of numerous blows that would follow. Deep wheals started to
appear on his stomach, belly and upper legs. One of the blows hit his penis
and he uttered a kind of yelping gasping cry.
After the tenth stroke he took his erected and swollen dick in his hand.
After only a few jerks, he came with a jet of sperm that dirtied my boots.
Crying and excusing himself, he crawled to me and licked my boots clean.
Afterwards he showed me how to medicate his wounds. I liked this power over
a good looking man and started to manhandle him rougher than necessary. The
deeper the wheals and the louder his cries, the hornier I became.
I do not know what happened to me. I was aroused in a way, I had never been
before. I could have killed him Matt and his last words would be to thank
me. Several times, I was close to coming without having been touched. I had
to admit to myself that I must have a sadistic streak in me. I started to
treat him really as my slave. I got horny when he wore heavy weights
attached to his balls and nipples. I used him as a toilet slave, opening
his mouth to a gaping hole with a cruel mouth clamp. I urinated into his
mouth and loved to see him choke on my piss. I kicked him in the ass, when
he did not clean up the mess in the bathroom quick enough afterwards.
During his punishments I more and more sought to hit his dick and balls. I
reveled on his yelping cries. When I whipped him in the normal way on belly
and back, he was always asking for more. Hitting his genitals made him beg
for mercy, which I preferred. I was ever more getting into being a
merciless sadistic master. With time progressing I overdid it. After a real
severe whipping on his dick and balls, I drew blood and he blacked out. I
was not able to bring him back, so I had to call a doctor. After that Bill
told me that although he loved the extreme way I treated him, he was afraid
that I would kill him ultimately, if he stayed. A few days later he headed
for San Francisco to stay with a new male friend. Shortly after that
episode I met Runa.
She was a fellow student studying piano and she was good. She played the
most beautiful piano you could think of. But she dressed and behaved as a
punk with a shaved head and rings everywhere. She was also constantly high
on whatever drugs she could lay her hands on. I was sure however that
behind this facade was the real girl that her music portrayed.
We became friends one evening in my apartment. It was one of her rare sober
days and she reluctantly told me the story of her life, which was
terrifying. She was born in Chicago and grew up in a rather normal family.
When she was fourteen she started to dress up as a girl on every possible
occasion. She also started to fantasize about men. She experimented with
penetrating her anus and already at that age she probably stretched her
star hole permanently.
When she found out that boys and girls seeking kinky sexual adventures
advertised in the public toilets of the city, offering their services to
whoever wanted it, she got obsessed by it. She wrote her message also on a
wall. The message had said that she would be in one of the cubicles at a
given time, with the door unlocked. Every man that would open the door
could use her as he pleased. She also stated that she was a little ass
whore. Some time later when she was sitting in one of the cubicles ,
dressed up as a little schoolgirl, a man opened the door. That day she had
her first experience with sucking and being fucked in a very brutal way and
she loved it.
She went back at every possible occasion, giving the name toilet slave
another dimension. She took part in the most unbelievable sex practices.
Sucking and being fucked were only the innocent parts. The men started to
pee on her. After that had lost its excitement, they pissed directly in her
mouth. She was forced to drink it. After the piss, the shit followed, which
she had to eat. They also loved to whip her. Especially when they found out
that after a severe whipping her star hole was more or less shut, they
stepped up the intensity. But no matter how hard they hit her, she still
kept coming back for more. I asked her whether no by-standers ruined the
party. She told me that their "lovers" were a changing group of men, who
always put on "Out Of Order" signs before they started the fun. The
unbelievable thing was, that when she was telling me it, I could she that
she got a hard on. But even more frightening was my own erection.
Her life as a toilet whore ended, as some of her "lovers" kicked her around
so much in the toilet that she landed in the hospital. She was not even
seventeen. This meant that she had been used and beaten almost every day
for the better part of three years. During her recovery, the hospital
personnel found out about her other talents. She had found a piano in one
of the community rooms and surprised every body that passed with classical
music. She played all of it at a very high technical level and by heart.
After her healing, the family thought it a good idea to get her out of her
usual environment. They sent her to New Orleans to study piano. She told me
that none of her tormentors were never found nor convicted. Runa refused to
tell anything to the police about their identity. She also refused to help,
when some persons, who were suspected to have been part of the "lovers"
were arrested. She told me that she could not do it. She has wanted it,
needed it and really had loved every minute of it. In New Orleans however
she had not returned to the toilets. For a time she loved her studies so
much that it took all her time.
That night when she had left, I was in a terrible state of mind. During her
story my first idea was that I had left out many exiting things with
Bill. I should have gone with him to the toilets and let him be fucked. I
never had crossed the line from piss to shit but if there were others who
did not mind, I would love to watch. Realizing how far I would have gone,
I told myself to get out, when there was still time. That night I was very
close to calling you and ask you to come and take me to Los Angeles. Maybe
that was my sixth sense about the things that would come. I did not call
you in the end, because I was jealous of her.
Matt I envied her for those three years of unlimited sex in the most
perverted ways I could think of. I fantasized that I would have gone to the
public toilets in Delft or The Hague. What would have happened if I had
found the courage to write an advertisement on a toilet wall? Anyway I
stayed and got further involved with Runa.
As I told you before at the time we met she was into Gothic as well as into
BDSM and she also had an animal spleen. She wanted to be my dog so I bought
her a neck collar with her name on it and a leash. The next thing was a
butt plug with a tail attached to it and in that attire she moved around
the apartment on all fours, being punished for things done wrong or when I
felt up to it and I started to use drugs just to see what effect it had on
me.
We had sex all the time we were together and even touched each other in
public. She loved to suck my dick but not to get me to an orgasm, no she
lay in my lap the whole evening licking and sucking me. Sex for her was
being taken in the back and that she needed it at least three times a
day. You know that I always have my problems in the beginning when we have
sex that way but she obviously did not have any problem with that. Her anus
was so flexible that she could take in a penetration anytime anywhere. I
even was able to fist her but I hated that, as I could not understand that
that caused no pain. But I also had a kinky joy to punish her and as she
liked piercing I nailed her dick several times to the dining table and let
her standing there four hours. Her begging to release her only turned me on
more. I released her only to whip her dick after she had pissed on the
table.
I started to change my appearance with another wardrobe and gothic make
up. I dyed my hair pitch black. I refused to have myself pierced because I
was sure that you would not want me with rings everywhere. At that time you
were still much on my mind, but that would change.
Of course I also showed her off at the life-style clubs. On one of our
visits there I witnessed how she was gangbanged by almost all males in the
club. This orgy was unbelievable to watch. She was surrounded by at least
ten men, who fucked in pairs in her anus and mouth. Simultaneously she
jerked two more men of. Looking at this scene I shamelessly jerked myself
off on the spot.
When Runa disappeared I started a search for her, which in the beginning
seemed to be fruitless. After a week of ever emerging deeper into the
under-world of the city, I got the information that she had been seen as a
dancer in a sex joint. I found her there and spent an evening at that
place. It was a club in which all perversions could be bought and practiced
on the spot, mostly in the open. This was not a life-style club, in which
handsome people experimented. This was a place in which animalistic sex
urges were lived up to the hilt. I more or less fled in the end.
It was clear that Runa had crossed over and had become a whore. I did not
know what to do and even went to the police asking them whether they could
help. They told me that as the girl was over eighteen they could not do
much. I should contact her parents and try to have them do something from
their end. That would take long and was uncertain in the end. I got into
contact with the owner of the club and told him that I was the master of
Runa and that I wanted to have her back. He laughed in my face. Upon my
insistence he proposed that I could work for the release. I told him that I
did not want to become a whore but that we could make a master and dog show
for his guests. The dog would be for hire after the shows. In that way he
would probably get more money than using us both as plain prostitutes. He
agreed.
In the beginning we were featured as a kind of freak show. After the shows
I was normally able to watch when Runa was fucked and sometimes
beaten. When we were alone afterwards, I was always so aroused that we had
wild sex. You may wonder about this as I had fled on the first night. Now I
saw that Runa really seemed to like the abuse and that rape was her
favorite kind of sex. At first I did not understanding why a girl would
like to be raped. The more I saw it happen however the more I got used to
it, right until I started to see it as the archetype of sex. The woman is
hunted down and taken whether she want it or not. I slowly started to
consider trying it out. Before I could realize that however, the club was
raided by the police, getting me a record as a prostitute. It was after
that raid that I learned about the connection to the infamous Horace. After
I got to know that, I wanted out but it was too late though. We were
whisked away to his club in the bayous.
The first weeks in that place at least, I was conditioned to the life that
would be waiting for me. And that conditioning took place by forcing drugs
on me. I was already taking grass and crack regularly and occasionally
cocaine. When I saw the needle with opium though, I panicked. I fought the
first shots and I had to be knocked unconscious. After I woke up I was in a
dream world that was filled with sex. I was fucked by guests as well as
attendants. This was the kind of sex that I had envied Runa for. Here I was
used without afterthought as many times as they found it necessary and as
roughly as they though necessary. This was no giving and receiving, this
was only brutal taking from one part and complete obedience from the other
part.
That obedience was not only reached by drugging us, there were also other
means to secure it. One was the totem pole that was standing in the middle
of the lawn in front of the house. Almost every day one of the girls was
punished there. The punishment was given for bad behavior which could be
anything. Spoiling liquor could be enough even an untidy room or an unmade
bed could be one. Other reasons were bad behavior towards a customer or
refusing him.
Sometimes when nobody had been misbehaving they took two girls at random
tot fight for it. I can tell you hat you did fight when chosen, because
the punishment put you out of everything for at least 24 hours. Horace
himself always administered the first part. He was a very big Negro. As a
matter of fact he was even handsome. Big as he was he had a monster cock of
which everybody was afraid. Tied to the pole you got that inside your
anus. Mostly he did not fuck, but he almost always drew blood anyway. Then
came the horse or better said the wooden pony on which the girl was
lowered. All sharp borders on that one were still there. The girls were
condemned to stay there for twenty minutes with us looking. Probably one of
the reasons we came mostly away with punishments because the pony was not
as grueling to us as to the real girls.
When the edge of the wood, which was even coated with metal, bit itself
ever deeper into the soft flesh of the victim, she got weights on her
feet. Mostly this created the first visible blood. The moment that
appeared, somebody yelled not to dirty the pony and started to whip her.
When the twenty minutes were over the girl was taken of the horse and left
laying on the lawn as a warning to the others. As if we needed such a
warning. The rest of the day and a part of the following day the victim
needed to recuperate.
After some time the intervals between the opium shots became longer and I
could think straighter. I went to the attendants. I tried to convince them
that I was no whore and they should let me go. I was laughed at of
course. One of them said that some hours ago he had another impression of
me. After I gave myself willingly to him, I went up with a paying guest. He
told me that I might not have been a whore when I came but that I certainly
was one now. Of course I was not giving up. On one of the following days I
told my story to Horace. He listened with a wicked smile on his face.
Afterwards he told me that to avoid me blabbering to customers in that way,
I would be punished the next morning.
The next day I learned to know the Totem Pole better. Tied, Horace entered
me and when he noticed no blood he fucked me all the way. I did not bleed
but I can tell you that it ached like hell. As they saw that the horse was
not real punishment for me, I was flogged. Two men with short horse whips
chased me all over the lawn. I might have jumped into the water surrounding
the Mansion. Only my fear for possible alligators withheld me from that.
Now I got to know what I had done to Bill, as many blows hit my dick. The
welts on my body were so deep that I needed three days for them to get
better a little bit. Afterwards they were still visible for more than a
week. I had learned my lesson and never tried to talk to anybody again.
When I was back to normal again I made a balance of my situation. What had
started as an attempt to save Runa for herself had made me into a whore. I
was devastated and started to make plans to flee. The more I saw of the
place however the more I became convinced that escape would be almost
impossible. Runa was also no help as she was pleased that I was there. She
quite loved the rude treatment by her lovers and afterwards, she loved to
sleep in my lap.
In the beginning my anus did hurt all day long from one to three forceful
penetrations per evening. After some time there was only the little stab of
pain when a big dick passed my star hole. After two weeks we were told that
we could continue with our master and pet show. I noticed that the
customers, who participated in our act, were not the usual bordello
visitors. They probably were highly regarded citizens with kinky tastes,
who paid real well for their pleasures. Many of them were submissive. This
meant that Runa and I could have our way with them and were not as
frequently molested as the other girls in the club.
After the first month the situation became weird Matt. In the moments I
could think clear I still knew that I had a mission. I was there to free
Runa. On the other hand however, I think I started to like my life. I was
in an all female surroundings and accepted as one of them. All my life I
had to show the world a fake personality. Even in Amsterdam nobody but a
few people knew what I really was. Now everybody knew and did not give a
damn. Better even, I was part of that big family.
In a way I now lived an easy life, I was also taken care of all day. I was
fed and believe it or not they had excellent food. The cook was an old
Negro woman, who we called Mama Sue. Together with her husband called Uncle
Tom they did work and errands around the house. She was an exceptional
cook and made the most wonderful Creole and Cajun dishes. Mostly we ate
them with Hurricanes or other cocktails. Alcohol was always there in
masses. This woman was also helping with the laundry and even was a good
hairdresser.
When they found out that I was also good at doing hair. I was "promoted" as
the hair stylist. In that way I learned to know the other girls better.
Most of them were in a similar situation as I. They accepted the situation
because next to the food they got their "dream makers", as the heroin was
called amongst us. On top of that most of them did not mind the lovers that
were chosen for them in the evening. All of them liked sex and I am sorry
to say so but I was not excluded.
So while I settled in into the procedure of bordello life. The saving of
Runa was steadily further postponed. That could be done tomorrow or next
week or somewhere in the future. Of course all "lovers" were not welcomed,
but the whole concept of meeting at least five different sex partners in a
week was exiting. Matt, forgive me for the confessions. I was beginning to
accept the situation and even started to make the best of it. You may
remember that you kind of raped me after our nights out as three sisters in
Amsterdam. At that time I liked the brutal sex as a variation of our sex
live. Now I was taken like that every day and as I had no work to go to on
the next morning I started to to like it in a way.
I do not know whether the drugs made me accept it or my secret envy of Runa
and her unconditional sex slavery. During the last months I came to the
conclusion that the second reason was the more important one. If that is
true, it frightens me in an unspeakable way because I do not understand it.
After some months I fell in love with a customer. He was a giant of a white
man. I named him Mr. Big after our first meeting. He must have been over 2
meters. He had no body hair whatsoever and also his head was shaved. One
evening I saw him come in and ask for the she-males. They first presented
Runa to him but he waved her away. Upon seeing me I could see his eyes
lighting up and I was hired.
About ten days after my first encounter with him I was taken to the city.
With two men guarding me I was told to shop. When I started to look for
Gothic clothes they told me to buy lady like clothes. They spared no
expenses and I was able to buy me a complete wardrobe with provocative
underwear and sexy dresses. At the end of the afternoon I was brought to a
hair stylist who changed my hair from Gothic to a more normal style. The
next day I was told to wait in the big hall and when I saw Mr. Big I knew
the reason for the shopping trip. When he saw me he hesitated. He was maybe
unsure who I was. After a moment though, he took me in his arms and kissed
me as a real lover.
From then on he hired me once every fortnight for an evening and he hired
me alone. The encounters did not take place in our dungeon but in one of
the rooms of the mansion. He always treated me as a real lover. When I was
fetched from the dungeon room I had to change clothes and wait for him in
the hall. Upon his arrival, we usually drank something at the bar
together, before going up to the room. He was so big that I had problems to
take him in my mouth initially. With him I really learned to know what deep
throating meant. Also my star hole reacted with more pain than usual every
time when he penetrated me and he did that multiple times every evening we
were together.
Still it was not a brutal invasion. He always took his time in the
beginning to avoid pain as much as possible. Like I said before, I fell in
love with him, looking forward to his visits and happy to be with him.
I guess he was somebody important because he had that aura of aristocracy
around him. He reminded me much of Eric. Maybe he was an ex football or
basket ball player. Although it was difficult to judge his age, I was sure
that at that time he was not an active sports man. He refused however to
talk in any way about his private life although I tried to ask him.
During detox I asked my therapist about it and why I felt that I was in
love with that man. I was told that many prostitutes have customers that
cause that kind of reaction. Although the feelings are definitively real
and genuine they are born out of a situation in which love normally has
absolutely no place
I experienced his visits as only sporadically. The rest of the time was
spent was in a kind of dreamlike state. Matt I did everything my masters
wanted and mostly I did it even with a smile. I liked to being fucked and I
liked to play the games with submissive customers. I also looked forward to
the even more dreamlike state I would be in together with Runa after I
would have gotten my shots.
I don't know how long I was there but suddenly you were there but idiot
that I was I still thought I was on top of the situation and you were not
needed. I really hit you, didn't I? When we made the blow job I came rather
quickly as I was really turned on by the fact that you were in my power
that evening. Strangely enough at that moment I wanted you to be around but
only for me to humiliate you. Can you forgive me for that?"
Shortly after your visit I got my second treatment at the totem pole. For
one reason or another I shaved off my hair. Maybe it should be a sign of
solidarity with Runa. I might also have thought it to be a love sign to
Mr. Big. Anyway the masters did not like it. Strangely enough Horace did
not fuck me but he was one of the whip men. The beating was much worse than
the first one. The last thing I saw before I passed away was that my balls
and dick were bleeding terribly after numerous direct hits. Afterwards Runa
told me that I was unconscious for such a long time that they called a
doctor. She said that the doctor checked me and took care of my wounds.
When I showed signs of waking up he gave me an injection and said that that
would leave me sleeping for 2 more days.
On his next visit Mr. Big was taken aback by my bald head. When he started
to say something to the attendants I hushed him into silence and took him
to my room. I told him what had happened. I asked him not say anything to
the masters because they would beat me again. I do not know whether he took
my advice or not. Anyway I was not beaten again.
The time between our first meeting and your second trip to New Orleans is
hazy. It's all a whirlwind of constant sex and drugs alternated with walks
in New Orleans. Alone or with Runa but always in outfits that got heads
turned. What I remember is that we were also for rent to private parties
alone or together. I have seen several big mansions in New Orleans and its
surroundings. These parties knew no rules and from raping to spanking to
whipping all the professional sex excesses were practiced. I participated
voluntarily Matt as it was a welcome diversion from the routines of the
mansion. At that time I lost all scruples, they even had to send us back to
our room to cover our dicks before we went on the streets. At the private
parties we made our entry always with bared dicks.
Although there were multiple penetrations and sometimes severe spanking
involved at the parties I felt strangely appreciated. There were people who
asked for me, the freak girl with a dick. All the generic girls in the
mansion were even jealous of my lover, Mr. Big. Matt I do not know how it
would have ended if it had ended differently. I felt that I had no
possibility to leave there, but the impossibility was not real but only
existing in my mind. I know now that the end would probably have been an
overdoses or being killed by someone for what reason whatsoever. But I
felt at ease. I did not miss you and that frightens me tremendously. Please
Matt promise me to punish me, lock me up and yes even kill me when I ever
show only the slightest signs of wanting to go back.
The last day in the club started as all others had done. We were woken up
at nine o'clock to get our shot and after that had taken effect we were
rounded up for our daily session at the totem pole. That day Millie, anew
Asian addition to our group, was punished. It was her first session at the
pole. I still hear her screams when they fixed the weights on her feet
while riding the pony. When they were through with her, they had to carry
her to her room. I know that she did not come out alive as she was probably
still half unconscious when the raid started.
The rest of the day was a normal whore house day. Something was in the air
because nobody was allowed a walk in the town, so we busied ourselves with
doing our hair, shaving in our case and washing and ironing clothes and
getting ready for the evening. As we normally ate the warm meal at lunch
time the evening meals were mostly hamburgers. When the evening started
that day, it took some time for us to be chosen. This was probably the
second lucky streak. The man that took us later that evening was a regular
customer. We knew that the evening would be without surprises. We were
terribly wrong.
When we were in the middle of our act, as we called it we heard yelling
from the outside and some noises that sounded like shots. We also smelled
smoke before we saw any fire. The customer was up on his feet at the first
commotion and got out of our "dungeon" and we looked around for a hiding
place to wait this brawl out, at that moment we thought it was only a
brawl. I knew that behind the room there was another smaller one that was
used for storage and occasionally for observation and although the door was
supposedly hidden I knew how to get in.
In our hiding place we heard screams and yells and the sound of heavy
objects hitting flesh and we both knew that this was no brawl and then
there were some in the next room. Two guys one if them was one of the
regular aids of the mansion who must have been the insider on this job. His
unknown partner turned around saying that the room was empty but this big
negro knew where we were and cam straight for us. He kicked the door open
with his boots and saw me; Runa was hiding behind the door. Opening the
door however he had created an air stream because there was a window in the
room and that transported a streak of flames into the room igniting his
shirt.
I got hope because I though he would flee but he didn't. He came to me
saying he now would get his revenge on this arrogant high nosed cock
witch. Before he however could make his first step Runa ran passed him to
get to me and when she was in front of him on the last pass he hit her with
his baseball bat and Matt I saw her blood and other substances burst out
and patting on the wall. I knew instantly that Runa was dead but it had
taken costly seconds. He continued to come to me and the first at the first
blow I could raise my arms having one broken, the next came lower and I
tried to fend it off with my legs to get one broken. The third one did not
arrive full force but hit me square on my body creating the injuries you
know.
The there was a knife in his hand and he said, that my self defense would
not help; he would first take my witch cock and when I was still alive and
afterward he would beat me to death. Saying that I saw flames as a halo
around his head and some voice yelled at him to come out because he was on
fire. I knew that it would end there and then because I had seen the devil,
Lucifer himself and did not budge. While I tried to roll away from him I
felt a terrible pain in my cock. On that moment he must have noticed that
he indeed was on fire and turned to flee.
Crawling for the door as I was unable to stand I kissed Runa for the last
time and made my slow way through the house and the flames. I was low on
the floor basically beneath the flames but it was so hot Matt, hot as in
hell I thought that everything was vain because I was already dead. Still I
kept going on until I broke down on the before the front door. My last
impression was a giant figure over me and my last thought was that I was
lucky not to feel the blow that would inevitably come.
The next thing I consciously know was you standing in front of my bed. Now
I cannot explain why I did the things I did. In the hospital I could see
that all of you assumed that I had been kid napped and forced into
prostitution. That everything had happened against my will and I left it at
that. Alone in detox when the worst was over I started to think about
everything. I confess that I am scared like hell. The time in New Orleans
frightens me. But not because what others did to me but I am afraid of
myself Matt. I had to tell you all of this because I need somebody to help
me. Help me to find back to the Toni I used to be.
I still dream about it the endless evenings with sex in all forms, about
black men taking me ruthlessly and the sex orgies with many lovers at once.
I have sweet dreams of domination. Yes, sweet dreams, when I dream about my
friend Bill and my domination of Runa. Every time I wake up after those
dreams I have a hard on. Sometimes I even find my bed wetted, as I
ejaculated in my sleep. It makes me wonder whether someday I will want to
return to such a life. You have to take very good care of me Matt, because
I love you and I know that going back there would hurt you without end.
I would understand that you turn away from me. When you say I am not the
girl anymore that you loved. I will accept that because I have no
answers. But I want you to know that I have always loved from the first day
we met".
We were quiet for a long time and all the time I held her as tightly as I
could. I had tears in my eyes. I was shocked after her vivid and detailed
story about her time with Marge. It must have been real love and I must
have been very close to losing her. But, now after the whole story, I was
speechless. Did all of this mean that I really had already lost her in New
Orleans? Did I have to thank a bunch of thugs, starting a gang war, for
bringing her back to me? I was shocked at the realization that my Toni had
lived as a whore. Could it be that she liked it? My plan to talk about the
future was stalled. I understood that first of all I had to work out the
past.
To be continued.
Your comments are eagerly awaited at: mailtomatt@ymail.com